How to Marry a Beautiful Princess
by AlluraBlue4
Summary: Light-hearted, short story about Keith's proposal to Allura.


**How to Marry a Beautiful Princess – Allura's Perspective**

**By Kelly (aka allurablue4)**

**Copyright December 2009**

_General Disclaimer: Voltron and its characters are a trademark and copyright of World Event Productions, LTD, St. Louis, MO. All relative disclaimers apply._

_Author's Notes: _

_This story was written as somewhat of a response to a post made on by my good friend, Adele (aka princessallurap). Her story is entitled "How to Marry a Beautiful Princess - 101: A Journal Entry by Commander Keith Hunter". I encourage you to read it as it will further create for you the context in which my tale is set, but it is not a necessary read as this piece easily functions as a stand alone in its own right. _

_I have borrowed Keith's last name, Hunter, from Adele's story with her permission and have also obtained her permission to post a written response to her tale on various fanfiction and fandom websites. _

_Comments, reviews, and private messages containing **constructive criticism**, positive and negative, welcome. _

* * *

It has been precisely six years, ten months, twenty-seven days, and nineteen hours since he first knelt before me that fateful day that often feels like forever ago and then again might have been only yesterday. I know. I've kept count . . . because that's exactly how long I've been in love with him. And just tonight, only a few hours ago, he knelt in front of me again and asked for the privilege of becoming my suitor.

I told him "no".

You should have seen the look on his face. All the blood drained away, and he was paler than pale. I've seen his complexion healthier and more vibrant when he knocked on death's door after being slashed from shoulder to hip by Lotor's laser sword. And his eyes, those incredible, fathomless pools of muddy brown so dark they are nearly obsidian in color, they glazed over with an anguish I'd never before seen surface in him. I nearly crumbled right then and there. He'll tell you until he's blue in the face that his one weakness is my tears, but I doubt my tears compare to the way the anguish in his eyes stabbed me through to the core of my being at that very moment.

My poor Keith! How greatly it pained me to see him so distressed and vulnerable. Immediately, I got down upon my own knees and gathered him into my arms, held him, reassured him that my answer to his question was not a refusal of his love and affection for me and certainly not a rejection of Keith himself. I love him more than anything in this life.

Such confusion there was in his expression and the words that followed as he struggled to comprehend what would prompt me to give such as answer as I had. I know it wasn't funny – not in the least – but when he looked at me with those pleading eyes of his, I began laughing in spite of myself.

That was probably worse than if I had burst into tears, and the next emotion to come forth from my beloved was not the calm, collectedness of my loyal champion and protector. It was pure anger. Oh my! What a bind I suddenly found myself in.

It took me several deep breaths and Keith physically extracting himself from my embrace in exasperation, standing, and moving off to a distance before I was able to restrain my laughter and respond to him with even a modicum of seriousness. "Let me try this again," I said, offering him a sympathetic smile. "Please . . ."

He looked me up and down, slowly running his eyes over me from head to toe and back again until his gaze met mine in that manner which makes me feel all tingly and warm inside even when I've managed to raise his dander. I'm still not sure whether he did it because he knew his actions would have that very effect upon me or if it was truly an effort to dress me down for what he then called my "calloused" response to his proposal. In either case, he did not appear to be amused, but eventually he nodded once, giving his consent.

I didn't know whether to be nervous or relieved when he folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the nearest wall to await my explanation. My palms began to sweat, and I suddenly wondered why I had allowed this to get so out of hand. What was I thinking when I'd given him my answer?

As if he heard my thoughts, Keith glared at me and inquired, "Well?"

I rose to my feet once more and smoothed my hands over the skirts of my gown. "It's not what you think . . ."

"It never is."

His tone was cool, empty.

"I don't want you to become my suitor."

Fire blazed in his eyes. "Damn it, Allura!" he seethed. "Don't play games with me!" He slammed his fists into the wall behind him.

"I'm not playing games," I told him meekly.

"All this time, I've loved you, ached for you, given you everything I am, and . . . and for what? For what! To have you throw it right back in my face? You must think me a fool!" Keith erratically raked his hands through his hair and paced the length of the room, heavy footsteps on the tiled floor echoing loudly.

I trembled as I watched the vein in his neck pulse with ferocity. "Keith, please . . ." I raised my hands to my waist and waved them a few times. "Please, calm down. You're getting upset over –"

"Over nothing!" he blasted, cutting me off. "I see. This is all a big joke to you, isn't it? Keith Hunter is nothing but a nobody; a poor, simple pilot from earth. What in the universe could he ever hope to offer the Crown Princess of Arus?"

His rude response infuriated me. "Himself . . ." I muttered under my breath while his back was to me, "although right now, his self is neither attractive nor appealing."

He whirled around with deadly speed and was up close and personal before I could continue. "If you have something to say, Princess, kindly say it to my face."

Standing nose to nose, his breath was hot on my skin.

That did it! We had been at odds with each other in the past, and I had learned that there was no attempting to reason with him when he was in this sort of mood. More over, my own impetuous nature was itching to get the better of me, and by now, I was more than willing to let him have an earful.

"FINE!" I shouted, roaring like the lioness he frequently refers to me as. I grabbed thick handfuls of his shirt and yanked. He was going to listen to every last word I had to say, so help me God. "You are a stubborn, pig-headed, presumptuous, self-deprecating, work-obsessed, tight-assed, son-of-a—!"

My eyes went wide as his lips descended upon mine, cutting me off faster than a flash of lightning. His powerful arms wrapped around me, crushing me against him and leaving no room for question as to his desire for me. The roughed fingers of one hand thrust into my hair and tangled themselves with reckless abandon that was not indicative of the man who commanded the most power mecha known to man while the other teased the small of my back with the gentlest of strokes and made my knees go so weak he had to catch me.

Sweeping me up into his arms, Keith repeatedly cut off all my attempts at verbal communication with his fiery kisses, kisses so passionate the room around us might have burst flame at the heat generated between us. Unable to fight the torrent of emotions swirling 'round me, I quickly succumbed to the erupting storm that was my beloved. My head swam, and I soon found myself drowning in his love.

I'm not sure how long we stayed like that for I lost all sense of time and everything that wasn't Keith. In that moment, he was all I knew and all I ever wanted to know. I could have stayed like that forever.

By the time he finally released my lips and set my feet back upon the ground, we were both breathing quite heavily and trying to catch our breaths. The look in his eyes was nothing less than pure desire, and I knew if one of us didn't say something soon, we were both going to be in trouble.

"I love you, Allura."

My heart, which fluttered like the wings of a wild bird caged, slammed against the walls of my chest. "I love you, too.

"Then why have you refused me?"

"But I haven't."

"OH GOD, ALLURA!"

He was shaking from head to foot, his restraint hanging by a thin thread. Keith skimmed his hands down the length of my torso, desperate fingers lingering longer than they ought to have lingered in places they ought not to have been, calling attention to certain parts of my anatomy that quickly responded, standing at full attention, awaiting his next move. But just as I started to arch my back to subconsciously plead from more, he suddenly grabbed hold of me once again, seizing me by the shoulders and aligning my body solidly against his with no room to spare between us.

"Can't you see, Allura? Can't you feel? There's not one single part of me that doesn't long – NEED! – to be with you. Just the sight of you drives me crazy. To hold you is madness and shear torture. Don't you have any idea what you do to me?"

His wild eyes searched my face for a sign. Then he brought one hand to my cheek, laying it against my skin. I've held his hands, felt his touch too many times not have noticed the roughness in them, the calluses that cover every digit, and I half expected him to be rough with me. Not to hurt me – Keith would never think to do such a thing – but I could the see urgency, could feel him pulsing against me. To my utter amasement, however, his touch was velvet, the most tender of caresses, fingers moving over me as though I was made of the most delicate material crafted, and then he dragged his thumb over my lips, parting them.

"Tell me you don't want this as much as I do," he commanded in a voice that was soft, gentle, and yet full of his authority.

"Keith . . ." I valiantly attempt once more, hoping this time he'd let me speak the words I'd wanted to say from the very beginning.

"Tell me, Allura. Tell me you don't want a life with me. Tell me you don't see a future for us. Tell me you don't want me. I felt your response when I kissed you. I felt the fire inside of you. You can't deny that we have something unique, something worth fighting for. I would give my last breath and die for you, Princess."

His words were a challenge, a dare, and with each one he spoke he brought his lips into contact with mine.

"I do want you. That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"You refused me."

The caresses of our conversation nearly undid both of us and brought us that much closer to a place were words were no longer going to matter. I had to think fast, and even that was proving difficult when my body wanted to anything but.

"Because you didn't ask the right question," I finally managed to tell him.

A guttural groan, low and feral, erupted from him, the thin thread fraying, all of his frustration mounting.

"You asked if you could my suitor."

"Of course I did. It is the proper and respectable thing to do."

"And this is proper and respectable?" I inquired with a wave of my hands, one of the few movements I could still make at such close proximity.

"You seemed as though you needed some convincing," Keith was swift to defend, "and I never walk away from a battle."

"I wasn't aware we were at war."

"Well, we certainly do seem to be at odds with one another."

"Only because you keep interrupting me."

"I didn't hear any protests."

I couldn't help but smirk at his clever retort stating the obvious. He had me there. I certainly hadn't done anything to discourage his advances, not a single thing. "I'll grant you that," I stated wryly.

Keith waggled his eyes suggestively. "Would you like me to keep convincing you?"

Indeed I would have, but that wasn't going to necessarily resolve things between us. I had yet to say what had prompted me to refuse him in the first place. "Let us momentarily call a truce."

He groaned again, but this time the sound gradually became a chuckle as Keith raked his long fingers through his thick, unruly hair, something, until that point, I had only ever dreamed of doing. If only he knew . . .

I had to make him understand.

"It's a damn good thing you're 'fighting' me and not Lotor," Keith grunted in the intermission. "So tell me, Princess mine, what it is you would have me know?"

His vocative was possessive and sent shivers down my spine. My insides turned to a quivering mass of jelly. The power Keith held over me with his unfettered love was far greater than anything Lotor could ever hope to wield in his obsessive pursuit of conquest.

I took a small step back from him, creating just enough distance between us that I could gaze into his eyes and navigate their fathomless depths to the guarded entrance of his soul. How great my love was for this man! I took his face between my palms, tipping his head downward, forcing him to look back at me.

"Say it again," I directed.

"What?"

"Say it again. Call me what you just called me."

His hands moved to the small of my back, fingers lightly stroking the place he knew all too well would evoke my desire for him all the more.

"Princess mine."

His reply was more erotic and ardent than any touch he had ever given me.

"Princess mine," Keith repeated, whispering into my hair and pulling me close once again, tucking my head beneath his chin. "Mine, Allura. You are mine."

"Yes," I uttered softly in turn. "I am." One hand dropped to his shoulder, and I looped my arm around his neck. The other descend to that place just above his heart, the place that drew me like a magnet to him, that point of connection between us I could never quiet seem to get enough of, the place I longed to touch him more than any other.

He trembled in response.

"I am yours, Keith. I always have been, and that's why I don't want you to be my suitor. A suitor is someone attempting to curry favor, to woo, to gain affection and love. Hundreds of men have lined up to seek that honor, and you have personally witnessed me turn them away, one after another, until there were no more. Keith, you have already won that battle. The war for my hand has ended, and you, my Keith, you are the sole victor. And the thing is, there was never any competition with regard to my choice as far as I am concerned. You are the only man I've ever wanted. The only man I've ever loved. The only man I want to spend the rest of my life with."

I leaned back, looking upon him with nothing less than all the love I had to offer. "I don't want you to be my suitor, Keith. I want you to be my husband. I want you to be my one and only love, forever and always."

"Oh Allura . . ."

Keith seldom cried, but I swear there were tears in his eyes as his gaze found mine and held it fiercely for several minutes while he struggled to maintain control of his emotions.

"I love you, Keith."

Keith embraced me tightly and then dropped to the ground, kneeling before me, his right arm crossed over his chest, his head bowed as he drew a deep breath and then looked up at me, his gaze again capturing mine.

"Allura, Crown Princess of Arus, the first time I knelt before you, I pledged to you my unwavering fealty and offered my life in your service. The second, I requested the esteemed honor of being your suitor – my mistake. I shall hereby select my words more carefully." His chocolate eyes briefly danced with amusement, and a smile only Keith can smile lit up his entire face. "This third and final time – because I will not ask you again. If you say 'no' this time around, I'm not doing this again. – this third and final time, I'm entrusting you with my heart. It's yours, Allura. It always has been. Marry me, Princess mine, love of my life, heart of my heart. Marry me and be my wife, my forever and always."

Full of hope and expectancy, he held out his hand to me.

Without hesitation, I placed my hand in it. I'd bared my soul to him, and now his had been revealed to me. There was only one thing to say. I blinked back tears of sheer joy, trying to keeping his handsome face in focus. I wanted to be sure to see his expression when I gave my answer. "Yes."

He peered skeptically at me through his sooty lashes, but a twitch at the corner of his mouth let me know he was only teasing. And even as it happened, he was already turning my hand over in his, exposing my palm, raising it to his lips, and sealing his intentions with a kiss pressed softly into its center.

"Did I get it right this time," he inquired, giving my hand a tug and drawing me down upon his knee.

"More than right," I answered, laying my forehead against his, drinking him in. "You were perfect."

"I can be perfect in other ways too, Princess mine."

"Mmm, and in what ways might that be?"

His fingers traveled around my waist and again found the small of my back, delicately teasing the sensitive nerve endings there. "I could tell you . . ." he purred, nibbling the path created by my collarbone, "but I would much rather show you."

My lips parted in wanting, and somewhere along the way I gasped when his mouth eventually found mine and proceeded to claim me as his own with more than just his heart.

* * *

It has been precisely fifty-four years, seven months, nine days, and twenty hours since he knelt before me that fateful day for the third time in his life. It feels like forever ago and then again might have been only yesterday. I know. I've kept count . . . because that's exactly how long I've been married to him. And just tonight, only a few hours ago, my husband knelt in front of me once again and told me not a day has gone by when he hasn't been thankful I told him 'no' when he asked if he could be my suitor.

And that, good people, is how you marry a beautiful princess!


End file.
